


His Father's Son

by iknowhowmystoryends (gorgeouschaos)



Series: His Father's Son [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Trans Dean Winchester, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:35:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29279292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gorgeouschaos/pseuds/iknowhowmystoryends
Summary: John gives Sam his leather jacket on Dean’s eighteenth birthday.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & John Winchester
Series: His Father's Son [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2150214
Comments: 13
Kudos: 56





	His Father's Son

**Author's Note:**

> So, uh. I was feeling particularly trans and I wrote this in about half an hour. Hope you like it!  
> (Also, a few PSAs. One: please don't bind with ace bandages or anything similar. Two: in this story I use she/her pronouns for Dean in the beginning because that's how Dean thinks of himself at the time. Please do not refer to trans people using pronouns they may have used in the past.)

The first time Sam and Dean meet Bobby Singer, John says, “This is my son, Sam, and this is… this is Deanna.”

The first time Deanna questions whether or not she’s the girl her father tells her she is, she’s eight. John, in exchange for moving the three of them in the middle of the school year, lets Dean join a soccer team. He doesn’t stay for practice.

One of the girls takes in Deanna’s jeans and oversized hoodie and says, “You know this is a girl’s team, right?”

Deanna nods after a brief pause. In that brief pause are a multitude of thoughts, among them _I know I don’t belong here_. 

“I’m a girl,” Deanna says, and if it feels like a lie she doesn’t yet have words for why.

Deanna’s ten and she never takes off her hoodie. She doesn’t understand why any person in their right mind wouldn’t want to hide the fact that they had bumps on their chest.

She wears exclusively sports bras for five years because it helps a little.

She starts going by Dean at school when she’s fourteen and stuck in Albany. People call Dean “him” and Dean doesn’t correct them because it feels better than “her” ever did. Dean doesn’t change for gym and ditches when his teacher orders him to; Dean gets into fistfights at least once a week, usually with people who call him words he’s only ever heard from John before; Dean has never felt more settled in his own skin. 

Word of Dean’s new name gets back to John and, after a screaming match they have in the motel parking lot where the name _Mary_ gets thrown in Dean’s face, he doesn’t speak to Dean for three weeks. On the twenty-second day of silence, Sam snaps, “Call him Dean, Dad, this is stupid. Mom wouldn’t care and you know it.”

John puts his beer bottle down. “Her name is Deanna.”

“If you ever call me that again,” Dean says, “I’m taking Sam and I’m leaving for Bobby’s.”

Dean’s never been more serious. 

John’s lips pull back into a snarl, but he never says the name _Deanna_ in Dean’s earshot again. 

He never says _Dean_ , either, but Dean will take what he can get.

Dean introduces himself with his new name the next time John drops him and Sam off at Bobby’s. Bobby says, “Nice to meet you, son,” and Dean locks himself in the upstairs bathroom to cry.

When he’s fifteen, Dean gets desperate enough to start binding his chest with a roll of Ace bandages he stole from a 7/11 in Jacksonville. It hurts to breathe, but he can stand to look in the mirror, so that’s something.

John gives Sam his leather jacket on Dean’s eighteenth birthday.

Dean’s hands are clenched around the Impala’s wheel; his teeth are clenched against words that John doesn’t want to hear. 

Dean’s his father’s son in every way that should matter but doesn’t. Dean walks like his father (he’s spent hours practicing placing his feet on imagined railroad tracks, hours on keeping his hips straight, hours following in his father’s footsteps); Dean talks like his father (he’s spent hours in empty motel rooms trying to get his voice to drop low enough, hours imitating the cadences of John’s speech, hours repeating everything John says). Dean cuts his hair like his father, throws a punch like his father, even dresses like his father. None of it matters, because Sam is their father’s son in every way he never wanted to be.

Sam never wears the jacket. When Dean’s alone-- which happens more and more often as Sam gets older and John takes Sam on hunts instead of Dean-- he sometimes tries it on. It’s far too big in the shoulders and the sleeves hang over his hands, but the scent of leather and smoke and aftershave makes Dean feel a little less wrong.

Sam gives Dean the leather jacket the day he leaves for Stanford. 

It still doesn’t fit right.

After John leaves Dean to hunt alone, Dean slices the jacket up, crams it into a metal motel trash can, and lights it on fire. 

**Author's Note:**

> There will be a second fic featuring Cas rebuilding Dean's body to match his identity, so keep an eye out if you're interested.  
> As always, thanks for reading, hope you liked it, and I love hearing from y'all.


End file.
